


Audition

by Tulikettu



Series: Off-Script [1]
Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Pre-Relationship, Sexting, pre-golden globes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-17 19:25:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10600620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tulikettu/pseuds/Tulikettu
Summary: Ryan loves Spideypool, and he really wants Andrew to believe in their love.And then some texting gets way out of hand. Or into hand.





	

The last few weeks have been amusing. Ryan is really a very funny guy. And Andrew is flattered that the other man sought  _ him _ out, found  _ his _ number, and initiating messages back and forth. Because,, y’know, fucking Ryan Reynolds! He’s a legend! He and Emma saw Deadpool at the cinema three times (slightly excessive, perhaps, and the second and third times Emma had been humouring him, Andrew is sure), and now here he is, getting messages from Ryan about Spider-Man hooking up with Deadpool in a Brokeback Mountain way. Okay, if he says that out loud it sounds a bit dubious, but it’s harmless. It’s totally harmless.

 

Well, no, the thing is - and Andrew doesn't know if it’s just him, or if this whole thing is a joke that he doesn’t really get, perhaps their humour doesn’t mesh that well - but they seem to be flirting. No. No, no, they’re not. No. It’s all in character. It’s not Ryan and Andrew, it’s Spider-Man and Deadpool. It’s in character. He’s an idiot to think it anything else. But he’s only human. Who wouldn’t want Ryan Reynold’s flirting with them?

 

The Golden Globes are three nights away. Andrew is in bed, sprawled out, the television on low as he half listens to a paranormal investigation and half scrolls through his phone. An empty bottle of beer is on his bedside table, because it’s not a work night, and Ryan has already told him one of them is going to have to go home and change if they turn up in the same tux, then in quick succession sending him a picture of Deadpool kissing Spider-Man, the former getting pretty handsy with the latter’s backside. 

 

Andrew is pretty sure his arse doesn’t look that good in the costume.  

 

They’re on the same table, which is nice. Kind of. If Andrew can bring himself to not be terrified of the fact that he’s going to be unable to string a sentence together. Perhaps he’ll have a few pre-show beers, because this one is working a treat.

 

_ Hey man _ \- Andrew taps out on his phone.  _ If you win you should kiss me instead of Blake. _

 

He’s hit send before thinking he should have added a 'lol' on the end of that.

 

"Shit, shit, balls-" Andrew mutters to his phone, fumbling to send another text even though he sees the little blue ticks appear that says Ryan’s one step ahead of him. Or says that Ryan has Andrew’s messages open. But not that. 

 

_ Just pretend you're going to kiss her then kiss me instead. Lol _

 

No. that sounds even worse! The ‘lol’ doesn’t save it at all! 

 

"Oh, shit." Andrew grunts, tossing his phone to the other side of the bed as though that might stop him from having to face any repercussions. He doesn’t want to know what’s going through Ryan’s head right now. And he doesn’t want to think about having to sit next to Blake because Ryan doesn’t want to be anywhere near him. Why can’t Andrew be cool?

 

***

 

Ryan isn’t usually this excited to hear his phone buzz. Blake isn’t in the house right now, and this kind of excitement should be reserved for when she messages him. But he knows who the message is from. It’s from the same person ninety percent of his messages have been from for the last...the last week. A steadily increasing amount. But all new friendships start out with this kind of whiz bang flood of communication, don’t they? To make up for all the years between birth and meeting. And it’s nice to hear from Andrew because he’s funny and he’s quick, and he doesn’t shy away from Ryan’s obsession with Deadpool and Spider-Man, which even Blake is starting to barely humour him over. That’s totally not why Ryan wanted Andrew’s number. And he’s totally not getting a thrill out of pushing the level of flirting ever so slightly every time. 

 

It’s such a lie. But he shouldn’t feel such a thrill. He shouldn’t smile this much. He shouldn’t spend as long as he does trying to find pictures of Spideypool to send Andrew. Because why is he doing that in the first place? 

 

Andrew’s icon on his phone is a picture of Deadpool with heart eyes. Deadpool loves Spider-Man, of that Ryan is absolutely convinced. And he considers himself the world expert on everyone’s favourite merc. So this is really just an exercise in character emersion. That’s absolutely what he’s telling himself. He’s not straight up flirting with someone who isn’t his wife. It’s all in character. Two hundred percent. 

 

He scans the message and his eyes widen.. Kiss Andrew instead of Blake? Just like- Is Andrew saying- What is Andrew saying? 

 

Ryan realises he’s holding his breath, watching the little ‘typing’ icon beneath Andrew’s name. The second message doesn’t make anything any clearer until Ryan reads them all together. Oh. Winning. Yes. Andrew’s  _ actually  _ referring to the award show. Of course. 

 

Well that  _ would _ definitely be hilarious...and Blake would go along with it. She’d laugh. But why has the prospect caused a little thrill in his stomach? Why has he been holding his breath? His fingers have begun moving before his brain catches up. Or maybe his brain is doing the right thing-

 

_ I don't know if that's such a good idea.  _

 

No. He can't send that. That’ll make things weird. It makes him sound as though he hates the idea. Or hates the idea of kissing Andrew. Which he doesn’t. But he  _ shouldn’t _ want to. But he doesn’t want to tell Andrew that. Ryan deletes the message and types it again. Over and over. Message after message trying to find the right combination of words that are casual and friendly but not too friendly, but not so offhand that he’s callous, but not so flippant that he sounds like he’d just make out with anyone because he wouldn’t and why the hell does this matter so much? 

 

_ Yeah! That would be great! Let's do it! But you know if we make the news for it I'm taking all the credit for the idea. _

 

Nailed it!

 

***

 

Oh God. Oh God it’s been way too long. The paranormal team on television have already made contact with the other side and concluded that they’ve been in the most haunted house in America and are now onto another location. That’s how much time has elapsed. Ryan is probably burning his phone, so Andrew is going to have to think up some abominable sickness that will render him incapacitated on the night of the Globes. He can’t face Ryan. He can’t face anyone. He can’t face himself. So he has another beer, and considers whether or not ‘demon hunter’ is a taxable career path. 

 

Maybe Ryan isn’t even near his phone anymore. Maybe he’s doing beautiful things with his beautiful wife. As any good, straight man would be, given the chance. Andrew can confirm this, because he is a good, straight man. There’s no question about that. He isn’t questioning anything. His palms are just sweaty because he’s embarrassed and drunk on a beer which is stupid and laughable. 

 

His phone buzzes, and Andrew feels sick. He’s anticipating a ‘never come near me or my wife again’ kind of message, or something considerably harsher. Deciding he’d rather die now than draw out the torture, Andrew reaches across the bed for his phone, fumbles, swipes, and squints to read the reply. Then reads it again. And then again. 

 

Ryan is agreeing? He’s actually agreeing? In very good humour. Andrew feels his skin flush, his heart pounding rapidly in his chest. From relief. Oh, the relief is just glorious. 

 

He should just leave it, maybe not reply again, let the conversation tail out. Ryan will send him another Deadpool picture if he’s left to his own devices for a while and they can move on. But the additional half a beer is nagging at Andrew, telling him he can’t just quit now, or Ryan will think Andrew doesn’t want to kiss him, and that’s just rude. 

 

He’s typing again. The beer is typing. 

 

_ Of course, all credit to you. It's not like anyone would doubt you'd want to make out with me. I'm the sexiest man in the world, you'd take any opportunity. _

 

Andrew hits send before he even re-reads the message. A stream of soft curses leave his lips. It’s okay! He can save this! He ignores the shockingly fast reply from Ryan that pops up at the top of his screen whilst he scrolls through a Google image search, settling on a picture of Deadpool pressing a little smooch to Spider-Man’s face. Spider-Man is clearly feigning annoyance, but there’s a tiny heart spinning out from his head. He sends that, his ‘we’re totally in character, I’m just messing around’ back up. 

 

Only then does he check Ryan’s reply.

 

*** 

  
  


_ What was that? I couldn't hear you over my Sexiest Man Alive Award 2010 :* _

 

It was an instant response. He barely notices his fingers moving until he’s clicked send. Only then does he roll his eyes at himself. It’s hardly an award he brings up in every conversation, but it does make for some hilarious ‘facts about Ryan’ times. 

 

Ryan smiles at Andrew’s message when he re-reads it. Andrew is adorable. He’s a good looking guy, he’s handsome in that ‘God, I want to bend this kid over something and make him moan my name’ way. Which is a legitimate way. Which, Ryan supposes, some people might say ‘sexy’. Andrew is sexy. Ryan thinks other guys are sexy and he isn’t shy about it. One of the many things he loves about Blake is the fact that she happily embraces his attraction to other men. He’s never acted on it, never said ‘hey, Blake, I think this guy is hot, I’m going to make out with him,’ but- well she might not mind. Maybe if she gets to watch. And she will when he kisses Andrew. Wow, this is getting out of control.

 

His phone buzzes and breaks him away from that thought. Well, only for a moment. Deadpool kissing Spider-Man. He spends a little longer staring at it than he should, thinking about Andrew in his Spider-Man costume. All that tight lycra- he might have to put a film in…

 

_ Deadpool should have a boyfriend in the next movie.  _

 

He types the message before he gives himself the chance to think about it. Not that that’s a secret, he’s said that to plenty of people. Wade is a sexual beast, he likes everything, he should get to bang a guy. A hot guy. That Ryan gets to pick. But he wants to know Andrew’s thoughts on the idea. Because he likes Andrew’s thoughts and opinions and he’d like to know a lot more of them about a whole range of subjects and they could totally start with Andrew’s opinion on Ryan kissing another man. In character.

 

***

 

Andrew snorts at the little kissy face that accompanies Ryan’s first message. A very fast first message. Obviously he’s proud of being the sexiest man in the world. Who’s going to argue?

 

_ Seven years ago, old man? And you still like to whip it out at parties, I bet. Or is it only for the lucky few to see? _

 

It’s suddenly easy again, as though a breeze has rolled into the room. Which it hasn't, Andrew still feels hot and flustered, but he’s breathing easier now. Ryan doesn’t hate him. He reaches for his beer and enjoys the relief. 

 

There’s another pause after he’s sent the picture, but he knows that isn’t too much, because Ryan has sent him far racier Deadpool and Spider-Man art. Most of it revolving around Spidey’s arse and Deadpool’s admiration of it. Wade is obviously an arse guy. Maybe Ryan is too. 

 

The newer reply makes Andrew pause. He doesn’t really know what to say in reply, because he doesn’t know why Ryan is telling him. Just for his opinion? Ryan’s already proved he can have anything he wants when it comes to the franchise, if he wants to make out with a guy then no one is going to stop him.

 

Andrew sips his beer again. Ryan wants Deadpool to have a boyfriend. 

 

_ When were you planning on holding auditions? _ Andrew taps out slowly, as though waiting for that part of his brain that’s in control of his sensible ideas to step in.  _ Will I need anything specific, or just my body and a smile?  _ He hits send and then starts tapping again. That part of his brain isn’t stepping in any time soon. _. Since they won't let us have the erotic Spideypool movie we both so desperately want. I'll fully support your gofundme if I can audition to be in your bed. ;) _

 

The winky face will totally save it. Totally tell Ryan he’s joking and not being at all serious about auditioning or being in his bed. Winky face.

 

***

 

_ I only whip it out for selective screenings. I'll make sure to send you a ticket.  _

 

Ryan winces and slaps his hand against his head so hard he’s fairly certain he may have cracked his skull. Really? Cock jokes? Well, it’s hardly beneath him, but he might be able to manage something a little more sophisticated. Or clever and witty. He wants to go for clever and witty. And maybe a little flirty. About forty percent. Andrew is just all adorableness and a hint of sexy, and Ryan doesn’t want to be a disappointment. 

 

A disappointing person to text? He maybe needs to aim a little higher. 

 

Andrew’s second message buzzes through before Ryan can save the dick joke one with something more refined and clever. A smile flickers over Ryan’s face at the gentle flirting, a tiny tingle in his cheeks as he thinks about the other man’s body and that damn lycra… 

 

Part two leaves him speechless and sets the tingles on a southerly path. 

 

Audition to be in his bed? Ryan blinks at the screen, because those words have had a far greater impact on him than he could have possibly imagined. Andrew in his bed. Andrew beside him on the pillows, warm and naked and hard and- fuck.

 

“Fuck. Fuck,” Ryan breathes, rubbing his face with his free hand as though that might clear his mind of the vision that is setting up home there. Andrew gentle and pliable beneath him, moving with Ryan, toned thighs and abs and God, that arse- “Fuck-” he slams his head back against the pillow and squeezes his eyes closed, which doesn’t help at all. His heart is hammering and he feels a lot warmer than he did sixty seconds ago.

 

Ryan puts his phone down and then instantly picks it up again. It’s just flirting. It’s harmless. Why is he getting so worked up about it?

 

Mutely he scrolls through the gallery on his phone, knowing his brain is currently in no place to form a sentence that doesn’t get straight to the goddamn point, or explicitly state what he would like to do to Andrew once he has him in his bed. Ryan’s going to need to give these feelings some consideration. Maybe it’s just a right now thing? Maybe it’s because he’s alone and he’s a bit horny, and Andrew is cute. It doesn’t mean that in the cold light of day he’s going to want to fuck him roughly onto the nearest available surface. 

 

Jesus Christ.

 

He settles on a picture of Deadpool on his knees, Spider-Man’s fingers pressed to the back of his head, a blissful look on his face. Is it too risky? He’ll find out if Andrew replies. 

 

***

 

Andrew shifts on the bed as he reads Ryan’s reply. He likes the flirting. A lot. 

 

_ Let me know if there's a dress code for these screenings _ , he starts, but then thinks better of it, because maybe he’s making too big a deal about them being naked together, considering the other two messages he’s sent. He needs to wait for a reply to them, because that’s been a little jump from their usual messages. A lot of it has been various shades of flirting, and nearly all of that flirting is easy enough to read in character. Wade and Peter. But Andrew’s last message is a divergence, and he’s… not worried. He’s nervous. He’s nervous as to how Ryan ‘Sexiest Man To Walk The Planet 2017’ Reynolds is going to react to a direct flirtation from Andrew. 

 

His phone drops to the bed as he waits, his eyes skimming from the two empty beer bottles to the sky outside his bedroom window. It’s still very warm in here, and he’s starting to feel a little hot below the waistband of his boxers. Andrew’s hand wanders down to rest against his belly, fingertips close to the elastic. 

 

The buzz of his phone makes him gasp in a little breath, as though he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t. It’s Ryan’s name on the screen, a stupid picture of him kissing a plushie Spider-Man he’d found in a store somewhere. Andrew swipes across and the cute picture of Ryan is replaced with the image of Deadpool on his knees. He sighs out a moan, reaching down to cup himself through his boxers, his cock pulsing as it hardens more under his touch. 

  
  


_ If the extent of my audition is to let you suck me off I think I'll pass with flying colours _ , he taps out one handed. The blood flowing away from his brain seems to make him a little bolder.  _ But if you want me to reciprocate, you should know I'm not experienced with guys. You'll have to give me some advice. Or encouragement. Let me know exactly how you'd like it done.  _

 

His fingers are unabashedly stroking the outline of his growing erection through the thin material of his underwear, and Andrew isn’t at all concerned by this development. Quite the opposite. His foggy brain loves it. And he would just love to hear Ryan encourage him. He’s never been with a man, aside from drunken kisses in his younger years, but right now the thought of sucking Ryan off is blissful. The fact that he’s another guy doesn’t even factor into it. It’s Ryan. He wants him.

 

Andrew doesn’t have his own gallery of Spideypool porn on his phone, only the ones Ryan has sent him, so he has to send his message without an accompanying picture, which is probably okay. He’s drunk and horny and happy, his thumb tapping awkwardly over the keypad on his phone to bring up some art that he can share. Scrolling down the page of images doesn’t help at all, his fingers tighten around his dick, but Andrew doesn’t want to jack himself off looking at art of them. He wants Ryan to tell him things, he wants the words and the images. 

 

Still, he finds a picture he likes alot, Wade on the sofa, legs spread, his fingers tangled in  Peter’s hair, holding his head in place as the latter works on his cock. Yes, that’s what he wants. Even as he hits send on that he’s allowing himself the vision of being on his knees in front of Ryan, listening to the other man purring encouraging words whilst Andrew learns how to suck him off.

 

Humming, he grips himself harder, giving his erection a little testing stroke, pleasuring bubbling up through his body. 

 

***

 

Ryan is flushed, alone on his bed, his sweatpants tented between his legs. He’s trying very hard not to touch himself, but the house is empty and he could just go to town on himself. He could even moan Andrew’s name. An idea his dick apparently really likes, because it twitches between his legs and pulls a tiny moan from him. 

 

His phone barely has time to finish the notification tone before he opens the message. Oh, Jesus. That doesn’t help one bit. Now his mind isn’t just full of Andrew in his bed, but Andrew in his bed with his legs parted, gently running his fingers through Ryan’s hair and moaning softly as Ryan runs his tongue over his hot length- 

 

Or maybe Andrew is between  _ his _ legs, Ryan guiding his cock between those soft lips whilst Andrew looks at him with those beautiful brown eyes that would slowly close as Ryan tells him how to suck, how he likes it, where to lick- 

 

_ I thought i might be an acting coach when I retire. But you’ve given me a much better idea. First lesson is free, the next one will cost you.  _

 

He taps out quickly and hits send before pulling his cock free from his waistband. He keeps typing and sends the second message without hesitation. 

_ Lesson one. Don't go straight for the swallow. Build up to it! I wanna see your tongue working that shaft, you know what I'm saying?  _

 

***

 

Andrews fingers are running up and down the length of his cock slowly, barely opening his eyes to read the message. He chuckles to himself, thumbing his head and leaving a little wet patch on the front of his boxers.  

 

_ How much _ ? 

 

Ryan is typing again, but just in case the other man needs confirmation of his interest, there it is. Because oh, God, Andrew is interested. 

 

He lets out an undignified whimper when Ryan’s second reply comes though. He’s never thought of sucking another guy off, ever, but he is hungry for Ryan. He wants to know what he tastes like, how he’ll feel against his tongue- 

 

_ Start at your head and slowly lick my way down? Hands as well, or would you rather I just gripped your thighs and-  _ Andrew pulls his cock free, stroking it languidly, not wanting to come just yet. - _ just use my mouth? I don't know if I'll be able to fit you all in, I've heard rumours. But you want to see my lips stretched around you, don't you? _

 

That’s a little bolder than he'd planned to be, but it isn't as though Ryan is hitting the breaks, either. 

 

_ What's your price for lesson 2? _

 

_ *** _

 

Ryan's eyes widen in surprise, his hand pausing mid-stroke as he stares at the words. Was this…? Are they…?

 

Gay chicken, he tells himself, we're playing gay chicken. That’s all. Except that if they are, Andrew is definitely winning considering Ryan is jacking off to just his flirty messages, and he’s pretty sure that’s a complete obliteration of the rules. 

 

The next message makes Ryan groan and grip his cock tight to stop himself from blowing his load just from Andrew’s words. Oh, he wants that so badly. He wants to watch Andrew fumbling through his first blow job, see those beautiful lips glistening, cheeks flushing, maybe he’ll gag a little bit- it would be equal parts ridiculously sexy and utterly adorable. 

 

“Holy- dammit,” he mumbles, thumbing two words on the screen, his brain too clouded with lust and devoid of blood to consider any ramifications.

 

_ A photo.  _

 

_ *** _

 

It takes Andrew two seconds to decide whether or not he can trust Ryan with a photo. Of course he can. Why couldn’t he? If Ryan is joking, Andrew will just pretend none of this ever happened. He doesn’t care. 

 

His hand trembles as he aims his phone at his cock, his hand moving slowly up and down. He holds down the record button, filming two or three seconds and wondering if Ryan will be able to hear his heavy breathing in the background.  

 

_ Got it. I'm ready for lesson two _

 

He hits send, laying back and closing his eyes, moving his hand slowly,and thinking about Ryan's mouth on him. He bites his lip.. Ryan probably makes gorgeous noises. Of course he does. Andrew will happily swallow down his cock, however big it is. 

 

***

 

There’s a picture coming through. Ryan waits for a photo of Andrew looking disgusted, or maybe one of Spider-Man telling Deadpool to fuck off. He’s braced for that. He isn’t braced for a video.

 

His mouth falls open almost comically as he watches the little clip run over and over again. He knows it’s Andrew, and not just because he can hear him. Andrew is jerking off right now. Thinking about them together. He’s turned on by the thought of sucking Ryan off, and that’s possibly the sexiest thing Ryan’s brain has had to try and cope with in a while. 

 

He realises he’s subconsciously matched his strokes to Andrew’s in the video. His cock is throbbing, heat is coiling in his lower body, but Ryan is in too deep to simply rush into an orgasm now. 

 

_ Lesson two: make eye contact whenever you can cos I can't imagine anything hotter than seeing those gorgeous eyes looking up at me.  _

 

He hits send. He strokes his cock with his eyes glued to the video clip that had seemed so long at first but now is almost teasingly short. Another idea pops into his head, and Ryan rapidly taps it out before he loses his nerve. 

 

_ If you purchase three lessons in one day you get a free gift. And it's not a set of steak knives.  _

 

***

 

Andrew is trying to keep his breathing even so that he doesn’t come immediately. He has no idea how Ryan was going to react to the video, but he wants to keep a slow burn just in case. Just in case.

 

He brings his phone up to his face to peer at the screen when it buzzes, smirking at lesson 2. Eye contact. Yeah, he can do that, too. Why wouldn't he want to watch Ryan as he goes down on him? Why wouldn’t he want to watch the flickers of pleasure on his face? With a squirm of happiness in his stomach, Andrew knows Ryan was pretty far gone too. He wouldn't have called Andrew's eyes gorgeous in any other circumstance. 

 

His brain is bumbling over what to say back. He doesn’t usually have to think this hard when he’s jerking off. But another message comes through before he has to worry too much about it. 

 

Andrew bites his lip again as he reads. It’s encouragement. He isn’t stupid. Ryan is asking for more. And that thought alone could keep him going for the next year. Whilst he desperately wants to know what the free gift is, he’s already thinking about his payment for the next lesson. It’s going to have to be another video. A photo would be a massive step back. 

  
  


His palms are sweaty as he aims his phone again, hitting record whilst his hand moves slowly up and down his shaft. His thumb brushes gently over his head, just to change it up from the previous video, but he doesn’t expect the sudden jolt of pleasure it causes, nor the little spurt of precome that dribbles from the tip. 

 

"Fuck," he gasps, gripping himself tightly to stop himself from coming immediately. And fuck, he’s still recording. Andrew hurriedly takes his finger away from the record button and sends the video, taking the time it spends uploading itself (a whole seven seconds this time) to try and calm himself down.

 

_ Lesson 3 _ ? He manages to tap out, thanking god for predictive text. _ Do I need to collect my free gift?  _

 

How is he supposed to go near Ryan now? All he’s going to want to do is rip off the other man’s trousers and take him in his mouth- and that’s hardly award ceremony appropriate. They’ve got three days. Maybe they’ll both forget all about this in that time.

 

***

 

Ryan realises that so far this text to sext development has been pretty one sided, and he has every intention of returning the favour. He’s already recorded a little video pleasuring himself, complete with a sneaky moan that had slipped in without his permission. Turns out he likes being recorded, which doesn’t surprise him half as much as any of tonight’s developments. 

 

He’s pointed to hit send when Andrew’s next video comes through, and suddenly his just doesn’t seem enough, because mother of God that’s hot. The little whispered ‘fuck’ at the end is enough to push him over, if the image of Andrew’s precome hasn’t already got him. 

 

He only just has the forethought to hit record as his strokes speed up and his orgasm begins to pulse through him. “OhmyGod,” Ryan moans softly, spilling over his fingers and stomach, phone recording every second until his finger slips and the video ends. He hits send without thinking, still working his hand up and down, riding out the last waves. 

 

It takes another minute for his brain to fire up again, his cheeks flushed and a smirk on his lips as he types out another message whilst he still has the nerve and none of the guilt. 

  
  


_ Lesson three; always swallow. _

 

***

 

Andrew still has a tight grip of his cock when his phone buzzes again. He hasn’t dared to move in case he comes and oh, God, he wants to go on all night. He’s surprised to find he has a video in return, a rumbling purr rolling through his chest when he sees Ryan’s cock. Fuck. It’s really nice. Really very nice. 

 

And it turns out that even the grip he has on himself isn’t enough to stop Andrew’s orgasm. He watches Ryan come, hearing the whisper of his voice which drives him over the edge with a breathy gasp, his pleasure rushing through him unheeded. Andrew hears himself cry out, and Jesus, how long has it been since he’d genuinely come without him doing anything? He dares a little stroke of his shaft to help himself along, and almost sobs at the second hard wave that rolls over him. 

 

It takes a while for him to realise he has another message, gazing at it, waiting for the words to make sense. 

 

With a smirk, Andrew aims the camera at his stomach, at the mess he's made. Maybe this time a picture will suffice.

 

_ Didn’t get  to swallow _ , he taps out very slowly.  _ Think I need more practise?  _

 

Would Ryan even respond now? Or will the guilt going to have set in already? Andrew doesn't feel guilt, just warm. And still desperate to see Ryan at the Globes, just to look him in the eyes, to see if Ryan remembers this as vividly as Andrew will. He wants to drive Ryan crazy, wants to have the other man message him after the hours of being in close proximity to tell him just what he’d like to do to him. He wants Ryan to want him. That thought will be daunting later, but not right now. Right now it’s perfect clarity.

 

***

 

This was so filthy. So naughty. Terrible even! Shameful probably. So why exactly is Ryan laying on his bed with a mess in his lap completely unperturbed by what he's just done? What  _ they've _  just done. Bros don't sext other Bros.

 

Well maybe those Bros are just missing out! 

 

His phone buzzes and Ryan vaguely lifts his head to try and locate it where he'd discarded it before slumping back against his pillows. His eyebrows raise in appreciation at the smooth curve of Andrew's stomach painted in his own orgasm. That is... Surprisingly hot. No, not surprisingly. He’s just jerked off to this man, the fact that he’s hot is not surprising. Perhaps it’s his boldness that Ryan is appreciating now. He finds himself wondering what Andrew sounds like when he comes, if he’s loud or if he whimpers, if he screams encouragement or just breathes soft words.  

 

"I bet you whimper," he mumbles, but he doesn’t type it.  _ You'll just have to keep practising till you get it right,  _ he goes for instead.  _ That's what a coach is for.  _

 

Sweet Jesus, he’s screwed. This is no big deal, it doesn’t have to be a big deal, but then Ryan has never done this before. And he has to see Andrew in three days. He might have to  _ kiss _ Andrew in three days, and  _ that _ shouldn’t be the reason he wants to win so badly. 

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this as an RP with my best friend, it's just cleaned up a whole lot. I have a lot of other little bits with these two floating around that will make their way on here eventually, so keep your gorgeous eyes peeled for them! 
> 
> Feel free to comment at me or throw things at me, I accept all forms of communication.


End file.
